Leave a Light On
by casfics
Summary: Some wounds heal more slowly than others, and some can only mend when the conditions are right. Ethan/Alicia (One-shot) set during the aftermath of the night that changed everything. Angsty/sensitive themes.


'It stays switched on nowadays,' she manages to croak, propping herself up on the feather pillow.

Instantly Alicia realises her mistake as soon as the words escape into the air. He'll take the "nowadays" as an insult. Weak is what it sounds, like a plea from an anxious child who depends on the glow of the night light. He dithers, hand over the switch, expression contorts and then returns to normal. She stares back at him until he breaks it, a little forlornly, and walks back towards the bed.

Without thought, she sinks back down and gives a sigh. If the only thing she achieves tonight is to break the thin ice that he's been treading on for so long, she would be content with that. But no. And Christ, it's hardly like anything will happen, not with him around. Almost 10 months have passed now and she knows she needs to shake the rabbit-in-the-headlights mask that she's adopted before it comes integral.

Ethan watches her for a while from the other side of the mattress; she can feel his eyes boring into her, curious. He's still trying to slot bits together that she hasn't yet found the strength to tell him. His current expression is similar to that of the one he had earlier when passing her a wine glass: thoughtful and contemplative, yet longing with a note of guilt. Eventually he grows bored of this and fishes under his pillow for the book about orthopaedics he borrowed. Out the corner of her eye she sees his eyes skim the sentences, and knowing of his annoyingly-slow reading pace, she finally clears her throat to speak.

'You must think I'm some kind of idiot,' she says. 'I know that's how it looks.'

He frowns and shuts the book he was pretending to read. 'No, Alicia, you're not an idiot. Why would you be?'

'For leaving the light on, I-'

'It's not a big deal,' he replies.

'Last time you came and painted the room, I- I vowed to myself that I'd be more normal next time. As much as I know you'll sit there and say you don't care in the slightest how things are, it matters to me.'

 _Ethan stays silent for a while, as if mulling over her words in the dim light. He's probably run out of all consolation to offer. There's only so many times you can reassure someone, gently counter their every panicked comment, wipe damp cheeks at midnight, hold them as their legs give way, insist they sit to the dinner table three times a day, superglue broken shards of mugs back together, ring them in sick because they can't face picking up the phone, stay on the line all night just because._

'You look pissed off now,' she says quietly. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to land all that on you, I just thought if-'

'I am,' he nods. 'I just wish, for the love of God, Alicia, that you could be at ease rather than being on tenterhooks all the time. I-I wish you weren't still so afraid.'

'Afraid?'

She shuffles back on the mattress, recoils from him instinctively. She'd been under the initial impression that leaving the bathroom door ajar wasn't a bother, that he was willing to let it go, as he said, not a big deal, but now he's turning it back on her, calling her out on the fear she knows to be irrational, identifying that it bothers him, not understanding that of course she's going to be scared, and she perhaps always will, and cruelly, this massive blow has been delivered right after she thought he would be able to live with her fading unease, help her through it, she thought he was one of the rare few that truly got it and now he's rushing her to move on just like any other bloke would.

Tears spill down her cheeks: hot and fast and ashamed. Ashen with bewilderment, he leans forward and pulls her into his arms. It's a clumsy movement and like by instinct she resists, pushes him backwards, hard, a fist to the chest, and in the dim light he is left catching his breath and trying to disguise the alarm. Deep down, she knows he can't win — dealing with her nowadays is like treading on a tightrope made of felt whilst the rain lashes down around you, like eating soup with a fork blindfolded.

'Shh, it's okay. It's alright, darling. You're okay,' he soothes.

She cries harder, can't help it, realising the last time she was in his arms he was uttering the same broken record, and that unless a miracle happens, things will never quite go back to how they were before, not now he's seen her like this, so vulnerable, so annoyingly helpless, so afraid.

 _If there were any lingering intimacy, that's completely out the window: his gentle words cut out as her breathing quickens and shallows, and he instead clutches her hands in his, pins them down, stops the flailing. It's all he can do to strike the balance between firm and kind, a risk he has no choice but to take._

'I-just- I can't st-stop feeling the way I do about things, even if they seem stupid, I don't know i-if, or what—'

'Breathe, Alicia,' he snaps. 'Breathe.'

She shudders and sighs, then, eventually, mercifully, having worn herself out, flops back against the bed and lets her puffy eyes glaze over.

 _Never the expert of disguising feelings, the mantra spinning through her thoughts is painfully obvious. The medical profession lends itself well to helping you become adept in interpreting facial expressions, besides this isn't just anyone. Ethan's stomach lurches as he realises the effect of a moment of recklessness in the staffroom back in April when he binned her off: nursing his professional reputation and letting a twinge of spite prevail meant the course of events to follow was more than just one casual, alcohol-fuelled night for them both in the unfamiliar hold of strangers, it was one whole year of nights of pain that followed and no doubt more yet to come. He's bashed himself with this very sentiment since the day he found out what happened, but it's only in times like these, times like now, when the consequences feel raw and profound._

'No, no,' he eventually cottons on. 'No, Alicia, I didn't mean I wish you weren't afraid of the dark. Well, of course I wish you felt okay again, more than anything in the world, but I meant that I wish you weren't afraid of—'

Somewhere between the lapsed final syllable and the weighty, stilted silence, she takes in a breath.

'—of letting yourself be loved _despite_ it all.'

'You don't get it,' she replies quietly, almost straight away. 'I still feel the same way I felt before. If I could, well, if I was able to rewind to that night where you said you missed us, I would in a heartbeat. Life doesn't work like that. Things change, things get in the way. There is a block between the old version of myself and the person I need to be now.'

'I understand exactly.'

'Of course you do,' she says, laughing once and casting her eyes back downwards again.

He persists, brow furrowing. 'Alicia, I—'

'Look, I don't even know what's going on with myself,' she says thinly. 'Some days I'll go for a run along the waterfront and it's just like before. Or Mam will text, like she used to, and I'll go round to fix the telly cause it's stuck on Channel 4 and she's sick of Noel Edwards and she just wants to watch Tipping Point without the picture going grainy...'

 _A smile flickers across his face as she relays the story, exasperated but comical in her description. He can picture the scene too, a competition of whose accent is the strongest, mother and daughter, Geordie exclamations thick and fast as Alicia berates Jackie for not being able to cope without her or move with the times and just get Sky._

'...and then I'll fix it for her and we'll go for a coffee in the garden centre. She orders two milky ones, and I heave but gulp it down anyway. Just like you, she remembers how much I used to have the extra milk. She'll ask about how I am, and lower her voice and question me about Eddie, termed "you know who" like he's Voldemort or something, and then work, and then her favourite doctor in Holby. Oh, that's you, by the way, the one I "used to court". She wouldn't bloody trust me anywhere near her with a needle. Freaked when I offered to pluck her eyebrows!'

 _He chuckles appreciatively, holds a pillow to his chest, thinks how he's only met Jackie a couple of times, one of which when he diagnosed her with chlamydia, but he somehow he feels like he knows the woman like she's an auntie._

'We'll finish the hot drinks, bump into a neighbour or something, they'll stroke my cheek and announce how much I've grown, like I've not got a degree in medicine or anything. Mam buys two potted plants as it's buy one get one half price. I give her a hug and we go our separate ways. Put it in a vase when I get home and water it like clockwork. A few days later, it flowers, beautiful shades of pinks, only the scent is unmistakable, it's the air freshener in my car when I drove myself to the police station to report what happened.'

'Oh, sweetheart—'

'I don't mean to come across scathing, my point is that tiptoeing around life is enough of a headache for me, so to factor in someone else and expect them to be in unison with you when you're so badly fucked up is a bridge too far.'

 _His thumb moves in circles over the back of her hand, praying to a being he doesn't believe in that she'll someday stop viewing herself as the defective toy in the shop and realise how worthy she is. The most difficult thing of all is knowing what to say, and in what intonation, whether to refute something or just agree with her. Every sentence has to be constructed carefully, he has to be steady, get the balance right, have a textbook response ready to each self-deprecating remark, take a back seat and let her set the pace, be a good friend above all._

Alicia's eyelids flutter shut, her lashes still spiky with tears. Everything is swollen, God, she can feel her nose and mouth must have ballooned up in the ugliest shade of crimson. Her cheeks sting where she scrubbed too hard with the makeup remover; better than anyone she knows she'll end up with a dermatitis flare-up if she doesn't be generous with the tube of E45 but she left it downstairs earlier and the trip down isn't worth it for more reasons than one. At least she can rest now, for the first time in a while.

'This will all pass,' he mumbles softly, unaware that she's still awake and listening.

She idly wonders if Ethan had been in her room on the first night he'd decorated it, rather than the spare, that he might well have been in it every night since. 10 more weeks of sleeping on the sofa isn't something she will rush to admit, especially since he went to so much effort. Nor does she want to give a flippant retort or challenge him, not now, because even mentioning that it might never go away will only highlight the elephant in the room for them both. He's trying so hard and the notion alone that he is willing to, despite his gruelling shift, despite the secret yawns she's seen him have, despite the purple grooves under his eyes, well, that just about breaks her heart.

'Thank you,' she whispers finally.

 _He squints a little in the darkness, smiles, closes his own eyes. Alicia had always found ways to surprise him and yet again, she doesn't fail. Just as he was about to pour his heart out, there she was, drinking in every single word._

'Friends like you really are few and far between, Ethan, you know that, don't you?'

'Oh, I'm told often,' he nods serenely.

She knees him slightly underneath the ribcage and he gasps, gets her back, extends his arms in front of him and raises his eyebrows, knows this won't be enough to warn her, so braces himself for the next tackle. It doesn't come. Instead, she takes a breath and catches his eye. Almost 3 years have accustomed him well to her every look, and this is one he can't mistake.

Alicia reaches out with one finger extended and peels back the corner of his dressing gown to reveal a square of his chest. She settles a hand there for a moment, thinking, then stretches upwards until their lips brush softly. His whole body buckles suddenly, anticipating what's next, responding, remembering, when she wriggles off and glances back in the direction of the bathroom.

'I'll be back,' she tells him.

 _He lies back against the pillow, exhilarated for the first time in what he knows to be months. In a way it feels awkward, taboo, like something out of bounds that he shouldn't be encouraging. However, he thinks of the sparkle in her eye and realises they are perhaps reaching the missing part that, unbeknownst to them both, has been the key to a lot of things. More importantly, it's beyond the surface, far richer substance to it than lust alone. There was a day not so long ago where he feared they would never be in this position again, so not only is there fulfilment to be had, but also fortune. He's bloody lucky and humbled._

She makes her way back, silhouette only visible now.

'What was it?' Ethan asks, moving over to let her back in.

'You've got three guesses, Mr Observant.'

'Uh, a bobble?'

 _He's chancing it now and though it's dark, he is certain her eyes have just rolled at his boldness._

'Two left.'

'Went for a last minute excited wee, then,' he sighs.

'Excited wee!' Alicia splutters with amusement. 'Last go otherwise you'll have to just never find out.'

 _He wants to hurry things along. Vision poor at the best of times, remarking on her appearance will probably score no points. Ethan looks out towards the landing, and then back at her, then towards the landing again. Disbelief. Everything clicks and he squeezes her tighter than ever for being so brave, so empowered._

'Well, you never know where to look,' she explains.

They kiss once more.

-x-

 **This was just an idea I had off the back of a request. It didn't take me long to write but I fell in love with the idea of trying to write a metaphor. It is loosely based off the song by Tom Walker (Leave a Light On) as the lyrics are about being there for somebody who's struggling and going through a tough time, simply because you love them. However, the light in itself is a wonderful idea to play with as it's so abstract and versatile! So, very much open to interpretation, and hopefully that will be apparent to you lovely readers: whether it represents hope, or a constant reminder, or love, or the future, or friendship, or trust, or security or whatever else you want it to be!**

 **Reviews are very much appreciated. And to those who've asked, I'm working on the other stories as soon as possible — busy life working and studying! Suggestions always welcome too as ever.**

 **\- casfics**


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